This night is
a fuzzy, fleshy peach
which I aim to take a bite of
just knowing that
it won’t be long
before I am covered
in sticky, sweet juice
dripping from my fingers
running down my arms.
This night is
a sultry dream
a far-away jazz tune
brought by a wayward breeze
an offering laid at my feet
a promise I intend to keep.
This night
is ripe.
She has received institutional support from Bread Loaf Writers Conferences, the Kentucky Women Writers Conference, New York State Summer Writing Institute, and was a Vermont Studio Center Fellow in 2022. Lupita translates poetry from Spanish and is currently translating Venezuelan poet Oriette D'Angelo. She loves visiting the beach with her chidlren, volleyball, word games, black and white film photography, road trips, and trains.
Not Enough Poetry 
This one is my favorite! Amazing imagery, great feel!
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Thanks Peter!
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Oh a night like a peach.. such a nice imagery now when we have October that stickiness is almost to wish for… cool rhythm in this
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nice…the juices of this night running down my chin–a night like a peach…i dig it…smiles.
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The first stanza has a very dripping/running rhythm that itself echoes the topic beautifully. Plus, the poem as a whole makes me much want a peach, no longer in season in Canada…
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Just feels lovely…
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Oh this is a luscious read!
Anna :o]
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Cool, sensuous, evocative and delicious. Great piece.
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There’s some fabulous sensory detail going on here, you’ve made some really good use of it! 🙂
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